Kingdom By the Sea
by MaverickPaxAPunch
Summary: What if Sam didn't die, and he and Katherine ran away to his onion patch across the lake? But Trout Walker has other ideas. He knows that both Katherine and Sam are both alive, and he will stop at nothing to expose them. But Sam and Katherine will stop at nothing to be together. Some Katherine and Sam fluff, but not like an over-stuffed pillow! Please read and review! Holes
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters accept any that we make up on our own, all of the original ones belong to the original author. Oh, and this is a joint-effort story but we published it on one of our FanFic accounts… The other two authors involved in this story are RainbowTeeth8, and axlreece13. Thanks, and please review if you like it… and if you don't like it, review too! If you read it at all, please review! :D**

Prologue

I eventually ran out of things for him to fix. The roof, the door, the windows; they were all perfect, and I hated it. I wished that there was just one more thing that needed fixing, just so I could see him again. I was looking for any excuse to see him. But the schoolhouse was perfect, not a crack, crease, or creak.

I walked along the desks, looking down at the floorboards to hopefully find one that was broken, or harbored a squeak. But they were all perfectly fine. It made my heart ache so. I hadn't seen him in a very long time. So long that it felt like I'd barely even known him at all. Truly, in all honesty, I did not. I knew his first name, and that he didn't have much to his name. and I also knew that he always seemed to have a smile on his face when we were together.

But once in the past week I'd seen him out rowing in his self-constructed little boat.

That must be it. There was nothing else to fix, everything was perfect. Accept me. I should be perfect, everything else was. But there was an emptiness. A hallow emptiness in my chest which felt like was lodged with a fishing hook from a careless child. One that had cast too far back and had reeled in myself instead of the big fish that he intended. And that fish hook tugged at my heart. Like I just needed one more circumvented moment with him. There was a happy feeling when he was around. Like everyone – everything was right in the world. Now I felt the opposite.

I could almost hear his voice again. that rich, melded voice of metal, and strength but also softness. I can fix that. and he could. he fixed many things so I could keep him around, and the thing was, I think he figured out my little sneaky contrivance. But I wanted him around as much as a fisherman loves to fish, as much as a baker loves to bake. It was a dirty little desire. But I craved for that desire. I craved for the forbidden fruit that was oh-so-wrong, but why did it feel oh-so-right?

I just couldn't bring myself to understand what was going on in my own head, as a matter of fact. It was so overbearing that I was getting a headache. Why did things have to be so complicated! It was always that way for me. Build myself up and get in a good position, only to be knocked down again by something so much stronger that I could never, ever have. Like a poor beggar drawn to the candy-shop windows, staring in at the glorious candies and overflowing barrels of sweets, with no money in their pockets at all. That was exactly how I felt right now.

The rain now came down in sheets. I could feel the vigorous rain splashing against the newly refurbished roof, and the wind whistled eerily as I sat at my desk. It was a little chilly in here, but there was nothing I could do about it but sit there and think. It was raining too hard to go home now. So I let my thoughts wander to Sam. Where he was now. Was he in the rain? Was he cold? Colder than me? Had he moved onto some other town? But he was probably just glad to be rid of me all together, in truth. He was probably off rowing his boat on other parts of the lake nowadays, calling out to the curious new customers. Having his freedom, eating his peaches in peace.

These thoughts made me feel extremely sad, and I realized that I had been absentmindedly reading. A book was open on my desk, but I hadn't really been paying attention to it. I was thinking too hard about Sam, so much that smoke was most likely coming out of my ears.

I started to cry. The helpless cry that sounded so helpless and I'd had it since I was little. I'd always hated it because it seemed so weak and childish.

I felt a soft hand on mine as my tears dripped onto the ink words on the page, sullying them like tiny tributaries. I looked up.

"I can fix that." he whispered.

I stared up at him, nearly in shock, but he pulled on my hand lightly, and I willingly stood up. My tears ceased, and I leaned up my head to reach my lips onto his, and closed my eyes as we connected.

"SAM!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice breaking as hot tears streamed down my face. I let the sobs come freely, they were going to kill him. I could see his boat on the horizon, dark and barely visible, but I willed him in my heart to row as hard and fast as he possibly could. I knew that it probably was never a possibility to ever see him again, but I was too relished to think about that now. A motor boat was following close behind, and in the dim light, I could almost catch the ripple of Sam's muscles as he rowed, heaving with all his might. This was all my fault!

"SAM!" I screamed again, hurting my throat, but I could care less. I waded past my knees into the water, splashing as much as a few landing ducks. I desperately reach for him, the man I loved, the glowing flames of the schoolhouse close behind me. I screamed again, but a shot rang out. It was almost too far away to see. Did his body go slack? NO! I couldn't even see!

It wasn't lady-like, but there wasn't time for manners, I splashed out of the water, spraying it in all directions. My shoes sunk in the mud as I took flight to the woods, dragging my wet body. Thorns and branches lashed my face harshly, but I didn't care – I ran. I had to find him. He can't be dead. I had to try. I loved him.

Cold sweat pricked my neck as I stumbled, falling onto my knees. Pain coursed through my body, but I got up again, ripping the hem of my skirt on a dead branch on the ground. I had to do something! Nearing the town again, a harsh hand grabbed my wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?" he smiled with his ugly bucked teeth, showing that gold-capped tooth probably worth more than my own house.

"Get off of me!" I screamed over the chaos, trying to yank away from him, but Trout twisted my wrist. "You've destroyed my schoolhouse! How could you, you rotten, dirty, swinish imp of a man! Have you no pride, no honor, no respect!" I hit him with the other hand that wasn't imprisoned in his, trying to whack some sense into his head, because there obviously was no room for a brain, it was so full of hot air.

"Whoa, now girl! Settle down!" he laughed heartily, an evil glint in his eye. He twisted my wrist again, but I kicked him in the shin. He doubled over for a moment, grinning.

"That's for what you've done! Do you realize the extent of what you have done, Trout Walker?" I screamed, then remembered Sam. I pushed him aside, tears streaming down my face again, running into the west woods. Screaming for him, I weaved through the trees, desperately searching for him. There was yelling in the distance, like a team of hunters, they must be coming after me.

Pain suddenly stung my side like a throb, a heartbeat. Clutching my side, I realized that blood was pouring from a shot wound. My breathing became heavy and I started to gasp, hyperventilating. Terror rushed through my head.

"Sheriff!" someone far off sounding yelled as my vision flushed and blurred. "I got her, I found her!"

"God damn it, Harrison! You shot the damn girl?" another voice yelled back. I knew that Harrison was Trout's younger and even more stupid brother. There was stomping through the brush, and a body loomed over me. I realized that I had collapsed on the ground.

"Well, well, if it ain't the old innocent school teacher, Miss Katherine. You wanna give us a kiss too?" the sheriff puckered his lips and howled with laughter.

"You shot me." I said in a tiny voice, all I could manage. My throat felt closed shut. He laughed more and pointed to Harrison, who was polishing the barrel of his gun so he could look at his reflection in it. "Where's Sam?" it popped out of my mouth.

"Dead, for all I care. Taken care of." Harrison grunted.

"What did you do to him? I went up to kneel, but my side seared with pain. "You're going to be very sorry."

They laughed again. "He ain't comin' back, sweetheart. Sammy-Boy the Onion Man is dead." He turned to the wobbly sheriff. "Should we just leave her here?"

"We'll have to come back with something to collect the body," my body he pointed at me like I was nothing. And then I heard them leave. How could they just leave me here alone, to curl into a muddy ball and sob?

I shivered, wondering if Sam really was lying in the bottom of his boat dead.

"Sam," I whispered. "My heart is breaking."

The single thing that answered back was the clomp of horses hooves, and my beautifully schoolhouse, burning to the ground. But everything sounded as if I had cotton stuffed in my ears. How could they shoot me?

"Sam," I managed again. "Fix it."

There was a rustle in the brush, but I was foolish to look up hopefully. A small rabbit hopped out and I let my head flop down in defeat. I felt like I was going to die. They would come to collect my body. The schoolhouse was burning anyway. What else did I have? I could die right along with Sam. I couldn't live without him.

Another sudden movement in the brush, but I didn't look up this time. I might even have been here for hours. A puddle of blood formed at my side. It was hard to move. It was getting harder and harder to see straight. I closed my eyes.

Come to me, Sam. Fix me.

Wagon wheels made me stir again, opening my eyes for the first time in a while. The horse, that looks so much larger than it really is stamps its foot harshly on the ground, opening his mouth to whinny and snort loudly. His face was contorted, like I was Alice in Wonderland, seeing through the rabbit hole, it's nose and forehead looking extremely out of proportion.

"She's still alive!" one of the men aboard the rolling ship shouted as I closed my eyes again. his voice didn't sound normal – it sounded quite demonic, satanic, serpentine. It was a dark, shadowy voice, and it switched back to normal slowly. "What should we do with her?"

"Bah, she's just the God damned schoolteacher!" the one I recognized as Trout's voice spoke. He had some foolish crush on me, and had never understood why I rejected him. He'd probably started this all. Everyone had expected us to get married, but his hands didn't work. They hurt, they forced, they strangled. He couldn't fix something to save his life. And his imprudent motor boat was the talk of the town, that old rusty thing that he thought was so grand.

"Get away from me." I shielded myself from him, remembering earlier how he'd grabbed my wrist. He was probably holding a grudge against me for kicking him. The posse laughed, passing around a bottle, throwing it over their horses backs.

"That dad-gum onion picker's gone, Miss Katherine, even if he is alive, he ain't comin' for you." One of them laughed, kicking his horse in the sides with his harsh spiked spurs, yelling "Yaa! YAA!" the horse reared its wet head and bolted, followed by a few others, but the carriage stayed.

"If you killed him," I said through clenched teeth, "So help me, I will hire a team of outlaws to hunt you down to the very ends of the earth." The old man in the straw hat driving the plain wooden carriage shook his head, steering the horse around.

"Nature will take care of that on its own." He laughed to the younger man stationed next to him. He was obviously an old drunk, at least at the moment. Plenty of the men were drunk now. He shook his head with his back turned. "Kissin' a black man… I just don't know 'bout women these days."

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	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, everyone… well, if there IS an anyone! This is the update, obviously… please read and review. I know that a lot doesn't really happen, but it gets better, I promise! At least **_**I**_** think it does! Thank you if you are one of our readers! **

Chapter One

I forced myself up off of the ground. I had one more chance. The world swooped around me, and I nearly lost my balance, but I caught myself against a tree, leaving smears of blood.

"Sam?" it was only a whisper. I could go only a few more steps before I stumbled against another dried-out, leathery tree. "Please, Sam… please." I looked out at the lake. His boat was nowhere in sight. I fell to my knees, soaked in blood, giving up. My vision blacked out.

"Please be alive." Was the next thing I heard, and the next thing I felt was shaking on my shoulders. My weak hands were still on my side, a wet syrup substance soaking through them. I remembered – blood. "Please, please be alive."

"Sam?" I reached out and my hand touched hot, florid flesh. A cheek. His cheek!

"You're alive, dear God, thank you!" he exclaimed. He was panting, and his entire body gave off a hot feeling, like he'd been running. "Come on, we have to go now."

"Where are we going?" I wobbled, tripping onto my knees again, crying and clinging to his legs. "Sam, oh Sam, you're alive! You're alright!"

He pulled me up again, a gentleness in his clammy hands. I could hear his groan as his muscles flexed with my weight. "Close your eyes, Miss Katherine. I'll hold you."

"You're hurt." I whispered, my voice a forgotten whisp. I felt light-headed, laying my head against his chest. He smelled of blood, the lake, and onions.

Sam seemed to ignore my comment, or cast it aside. My vision shook and shuddered, and I only caught sight of a few random objects; a leaf, the dark sky, the rim of Sam's hat – the broad one with the hanging straps that he's always worn. It was amazing I was still conscious, the world was spinning, and I felt blood dripping down my leg, soaking my clothes. But Sam was alive. He hadn't been shot, Trout Walker hadn't killed him. His broad steps lulled me back into unconsciousness, and I fell limp.

The sound of water woke me up, a soft splashing like ringing out a wet cloth. I winked my eyes open, squinting at the light I met.

"Oh, Miss Katherine!" there was a voice to my right, and the water noises came to a cease.

"Sam?" my voice sounded weak and odd, like I had a frog in my throat.

"I thought you'd…" he paused like he was considering the craft of his words. Then he went back to what he was doing before; as I'd previously thought, ringing a rag in a basin of water. He worriedly leaned forward with it and tenderly pressed it to my side. I let out a painful hiss, and one of his hands slipped into mine.

"You know, you've been shot." He whispered gently, frowning and pressing the cloth a little tighter to my wound. "Sorry… I'm hurting you, aren't I…" he said sorrowfully. "There's no way to avoid pain here."

"You're hurt too." It popped right out of my mouth. His eyes traveled to the shredded fabric of his shirt on the shoulder, where the bullet had torn straight through on his shoulder, one side to the other. His brown coat rested beside him, a hole torn right through it as well, and dry drips of blood were on his arm. The white shirt was brown with the blood stain.

His eyes flitted away from his pierced skin. "It's barely a scratch."

"Sam…"

"I can fix it." He said, shushing me. I closed my eyes as he dabbed the cloth on my wound again. I noticed that is was a tear off of his shirt, not a cloth at all.

"You should've – cut open my shirt." I said quietly. What would my father say if he heard me say that to a man? "Don't prostitute yourself, girl! Show some respect!" But Sam – I felt like I'd already known him for years. Like it was as easy as breathing with him.

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. He took his hat off and set it beside him on the ground, like he was trying to avoid conversation. "It's impolite to touch a lady that way."

I sat up, feeling dizzy, but his hands were right there to catch me, nimbly laying my head back down on his coat that smelled of pine needles. There was nothing else he could find to rest my pounding head on. I placed my palm on the side of his neck. "Sam. I trust you."

He hesitantly flipped open his pocket knife, the dull one I'd seen him use to cut the roots from onions. He sliced the wet fabric of my denim-blue shirt, severing around the wound delicately. I felt the coldness of the double-edged blade nearly touch my skin, but Sam would never allow the sharp side of the blade to touch me. There was a side of him that was so protective that it seemed like more than normal. Not to the obsessive point, but he was concerned for my well-being. It had been that way ever since we'd become friends.

"I don't have many bandages." He told me, his brown eyes warm and full of consuming concern. "I could go back into town and get some."

Town. The most dangerous place for him. The lynch mob had destroyed his onion cart, and my schoolhouse, and they probably were out to destroy Sam. Even more so if he just showed up. They'd hang him as quick as they could get a noose around his neck. Instead of answering to that, I sort of played dumb. "We aren't in town anymore?"

He nodded and pressed his hands to my wound again, keeping pressure on it. It was already feeling a little better. The pain was sort of numb, and there was at least no more blood pouring out of it like a sap tap. "No, we're in the woods." Sam put his hat back on and fiddled with the hanging leather straps. "Down by the lake. I docked my boat about a quarter mile away from here. Where no one would find it, if they're even looking. They might think I'm floating dead out there. Old Trout has horrible aim. His gun may be expensive and pretty, but his aim is about as good as a four-year-old child!" he laughed slightly and his eyes traveled to his injured arm, then back to me. "I can't stay here, Miss Katherine."

My bottom lip spasmed, and I blurted again, another thing that wasn't lady-like. "Please, take me with you." I begged. I didn't have anything to go back to. They flamed up my schoolhouse, the one Sam had worked so hard to make so fine. Trout would harass me if I returned.

"I'm going across the lake. To my home, and my onion patch." He told me. "Lay down, you're bleeding again. Don't worry, of course you can come. If you like, that is. It's a pity to leave Mary Lou."

His poor old donkey. One of the lynch-mobbers had shot her between the eyes and killed the poor old thing that pulled his cart.

"She'd probably tip the boat anyway." He said to brighten the mood. I was surprised when he reached forward and tucked my hair back. Parts of it had fallen out of the style I'd made in the morning that seemed so very long ago. At the warmness of his hand, I remembered when it had rested against my back, his lips against mine. I remembered our kiss in the perfect schoolhouse. Sam cleared his throat, and I jumped. "You don't look very comfortable." He mentioned softly as he continued to stroke my cheek. My face was still covered in lashes and scratches form the branches of dry trees lashing me, lashing me everywhere where my skin was exposed. Everywhere stung.

I slightly lifted my head off of the pine needles. Sam's face was shadowed by a few trunks of trees and other eerie objects in the dark. "I'm fine Sam… I –" I stopped talking abruptly when he slipped his hand behind my back.

"Close your eyes." He instructed in a minute whisper. I did as I was told, and he brought my head to rest against his warm chest. He still smelled of the lake, and onions. His sweet onions. But he also had his usual smell that I could never quite place.

"Oh, Sam, I –" I ceased talking again and moved my palm to rest against his shoulder.

"Miss Katherine Barlow, I think I love you." He said in my ear, and I closed my eyes as the hand that wasn't holding me moved to rest against my back, supporting me. there was a moment of silence, and I realized he was waiting for my reply.

"Sam, there was a – mob! They would have lynched you, had you not run away in time! And it was all because of me." I shook my head, on the verge of tears. His body shifted.

"I kissed you."

"I kissed you back." my eyes watered even more. I couldn't tell the state of his expression, but he waited a long time to speak. He knew I was right, and he admitted it silently. I finally looked up to observe his expression.

"They burned your schoolhouse."

"I know." I said in tears. "It was the finest schoolhouse I've ever laid eyes on."

"I can build you a new one." He said softly against my ear, his breath freezing in midair as he spoke. His words seemed sad, because they were. He knew he had to escape. But I was going with him. I couldn't stand to break my heart again. He wasn't going to get away from me so easily this time.

The rain had made the ground muddier than usual, making it even harder to walk with the pain in my side. It was better, now that the bullet was no longer embedded, but it still stung every time the torn skin pulled apart. Sam held his strong arm around my waist, but I could tell he was exhausted. He'd been running for hours, probably. Hiding and looking for me. I could tell his body was in a cold sweat, and lavender shadows were under his eyes. His hand that held mine shook with exhaustion. I'd never seen a man so tired.

"Sam," I said quietly. "You need to rest."

"There's no time for that." he stopped walking for a moment, but he was panting. His breath still froze in the air like a million tiny icicles.

"Well – we have to figure something out, we can –"

"Miss Katherine, you can't go with me. You'll be much safer in town – they could rebuild you a schoolhouse, y'know. You could rebuild your life, Katherine. You could heal."

I took his hands and brought them to my face gently, staring at him with tears in my crystal eyes. "That is not my home anymore. I'll follow you, even if you don't want me to."

I nearly caught a glimpse of that cockeyed smirk of his. His palm lay against my cheek, and he looked at me in such a way that I could barely manage not smiling at him.

"Don't break my heart, Sam. Please. Because I love you too." I said the last part louder through a sob that I hadn't seen coming. His thumb tenderly caressed my cheek, catching a tear that rolled down slowly.

"Then… I suppose that changes things." I lay my head against his chest, listening to his quick heartbeat.

"I won't let them hurt you." I whispered, resting my balled-up hand against his shoulder. I felt his slack body vibrate as he laughed.

"Hurt me? Nah… I've been eating onions, day and night!"

"Are you gonna tell me onions would stop a bullet?" I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands, though he laughed as I sniffed and contained myself.

"No, but they do make you strong." He rubbed his hand on my shoulder. It was strange, the way he held me. like he was afraid he might hurt me. he was relatively big, with toned arms from rowing his boat for miles, back and forth across the lake to his home and onion patch – both of which had previously belonged to his mother and father. He had been born free – yet so many people hadn't accepted his presence in Green Lake.

Why is it that every time I saw his smile, or his dark eyes, I felt like I needed to melt, only for him to catch me? The way he looked at a person as if he was reading them, trying to render them. His hard, calloused, and scarred hand in mine, but it was so soft and gentle when he held it.

"Sam…" I said as his hand – warm and pulsing in mine, though it was cold – finally found the back of my neck. "What's your last name?" again, it came right out of my mouth. I couldn't help it, I had an overwhelming urge to know his whole name.

He slightly smiled. "Garter. Samuel Garter."

"I like it. It's handsome." I touched my thumb to his cheek, running it across. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of his shirt again. He ran his hand gently down my back, and I felt him smell my hair, nuzzling his nose into the light blonde.

He sighed again, a long measured one. "Could you make it across the lake?"

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! No one has really been reading, but I am still going to keep uploading! I know I changed the script a little bit, and again, I don't own the characters accept the ones I make up… Please review.**

Chapter Two

He pushed the boat into the dark water, getting his trousers wet up to his knees. I couldn't help thinking of how strong he had to be to pull the heavy thing, I didn't even know if I could full it a few feet. I waited on the shore for him, keeping watch. I had a bad feeling – like someone was watching me. Turning myself in every direction, my heart raced, like it was going to beat right out of my chest. But nothing appeared.

"Hold on." Sam whispered to me as he scooped me up carefully in his arms. He carried me to the little boat that was built with the craftsmanship of his own two hands, wading into the water again and lifting me up into the seat. After assuring that I was secure, he climbed in after me, rocking the frame a little. My eyes were beginning to sting with exhaustion. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept over an hour, because I'd been awake the past few nights, my heart aching dully. And I'd woken up from a restless sleep last night, hearing the mobbers, having fallen asleep in my clothes.

"It's a long row across the lake." He broke my reveries, pulling an old blue blanket out form under a few large onions that rolled onto the bed of the boat, covering my legs up with it. I cautiously moved my hands to my side again. I hadn't really seen the wound, but I could tell that the bullet had gone clean through.

"Tell me about where you live, then." I tried to sit proper and straight, but ended up laying back against the onions. The water sloshed around us, black in the dark, and rocked the boat like a cradle as he took the oars after pushing off.

Sam shook his head. "Not much, that's what it looks like."

"Sam…"

"It's no kingdom by the sea." He smiled and I couldn't help watching his chest muscles flex as he rowed again with his smoothly-framed oars. "My aunt and uncle built it years before I was born, then my parents moved in and had me and my sister and brother in the house. Now I own it, along with the onion patch."

"It has a lot of history, I see." I smiled, curling my fingers on the hem of the blanket. It was beginning to warm up, but summer was turning to autumn. Soon the cedar and elm trees around the lake would be turning colors and falling, it would be getting colder, and the town would smell of pumpkin pie and spices. It was always the perfect time to make my spiced peaches, in the season before winter.

"Yeah, this lake goes on for miles. Have you ever been swimming in it?"

"Sam!" I exclaimed, raising my eyebrows. The look on his face was priceless.

"It's nice on a hot day!"

The truth was, I'd never been swimming. At least not in Green Lake. When I was younger, I used to swim with my brother Johnny, in an old pond that was on our grandparents' property. I hadn't swam since he'd drown when he was ten, and I was twelve. It wasn't that I didn't like the water, I was just always afraid of it. It was tolerable, especially when Sam knew how to swim. There was a certain fish I knew that jumped into the water all the time on a hot day, and that was Trout Walker. The only thing giving him a luster was the golden cap on his tooth, and he was so unflattering.

"I've never swam in the lake." I smiled to myself, feeling the morning sun shining on my face. For autumn, the sun was abnormally warm, and I even wondered if I'd get a sunburn.

"You just enjoy the ride, Miss Katherine. We'll be there in no time." He smiled, taking his hat off again, stopping his fluent rowing. "It ain't too pretty, but put this on, it'll protect your pretty face."

"Thank you." I blushed, taking his hat and positioned it on my head. I pulled the pins from my shiny blonde hair and let the messy curls free around my face. Sam didn't seem to be disturbed by the sun's rays, and he began rowing again, pushing the long sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. "I could help row, maybe."

He just shook his head and smiled.

Sam rowed for a long time, and I continued to offer help. He always said it was alright, though I felt useless – he occasionally looked up at me, a trick I learned that he does to trick me into looking at him. Trout had done it too, but it always ended in a wink, or a nod towards me. Sam only leaned back and smiled, seeming to be studying me. Like I was a crowned jewel, and he was so lost in my beauty that he could barely stop his russet lips from tugging into a small simper.

"What are you looking at?" he asked. Dear, I'd been staring at him too.

"Nothing." I smoothed down my red skirt over my knees. Actually, it was more of a red, brown, and grass-stained skirt now, especially around the hem. "Just… looking. At you, Sam." I tilted my head ,realizing how dreamy my voice sounded.

He smiled, and our eyes met for a moment. We held our gaze for a second, then his eyes rolled up. "That hat suits you."

I reached up to play with one of the strings hanging down, wrapping one of my long fingers around it like a piece of twine. I'd rapped a bow around my index finger plenty of times, in fact, so I would remember things. So many people believed I had everything all together, and I was some perfect blonde angel, but the truth was, half the time I was forgetful, and disorganized. But the sunbaked leather of his hat was rough and comforting against my finger. "I suppose you made this too."

"Nah…" he looked past my shoulder and the onions I was sitting against. There was no town in sight, it was too far away – miles, now. I remembered when I had first moved here, someone had told me that the river went on for about thirteen miles across, and about two the opposite way. Probably not one person knew where we were.

We both lurched forward as the bow of the boat slid onto the land with a gravely-sand sound. I could feel the grains under the boat as it wedged onto land. He set his oars down lengthwise, resting across the top of the boat, and hopped over the side and into the water again to pull it up all the way. After it was docked, he helped me out, holding both of my hands so I could climb up onto the seat of the Mary Lou, the name of the homemade rowboat, and he took my waist and slung me down gently.

"Bleeding's stopped." He observed as he peeled the bandage away from my side, taking a look at the wound I had been burdened with. I could see it was mostly dry blood, thankfully, but the pruned skin was gruesome, and a white circle was surrounding the redness of the divot in my skin, clean through to the other side of me.

"Sam, it hurts." My eyes welled with tears, and I pressed my hands over his that were on my wound. I started to mention that we didn't have proper medical supplies, but caught myself.

"Miss Katherine, don't cry." He stroked back my tangled blonde curls from under his wide-brimmed hat. "I can fix that."

His hand still on my waist, he leaned in and gently pressed his warm lips in between my eyes. I closed my eyes and breathed in his sweet smell.

"Sam, can you fix anything?" I teased, my spirits lifting.

"Of course I can!" he smiled, slipping his arm around my waist to help me walk. "My little cabin isn't far from here, but I'll have to come back for my rower."

Sam's cabin was small and quaint, miles from his onion patch, or so he told me. It was hidden on the edge of the lake, concealed in a little patch of trees. Sam helped me there, careful on my fragile body. He never took his hat back, just insisted I wear it.

The door was unlocked, but Sam had to give it a little muscle to push it open. He took my hands again and led me through the door. The rustic house was quite beautiful, so pretty that it was hard to believe he lived alone there, it was so tidy. There was a stone oven and a stove, along with a sink with a window overlooking the swaying yellow grasses of the landscape. It was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside – there was another room with a stone-set fireplace and two armchairs, and a set of wooden stairs led to what looked like a loft.

I smiled, turning toward him. "It's beautiful/"

"Thanks." He smiled back and nodded his head once. He looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with the tattered strap of his suspenders.

I lay my hand across his arm gently. "What's wrong?"

"We're not married." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking away from my eyes. "My mother and father taught me – I shouldn't invite a woman to stay."

I stepped toward him and touched his arm, stroking my nails on the tattered material of his shirt. It was torn and dirty, covered in damp dirt smudges. My clothes weren't in prime condition either. The blue blouse which was my favorite was ripped, or course, and smudged in dirt from tripping in the woods. I was sure that I, myself, looked pale and haggard. "Sam, you're worried that we're not married?"

He smiled his usual wide grin that I liked to see. "Yeah."

"We'll have to fix that." I stepped closer to him, resting my cheek against his chest. "Because I'm in love with you, Sam Garter."

His thumb stroked my cheek. "Who would be daft enough to marry us?"

"Somebody." I said softly, and it came out in a dreamy sigh as I melted for him again. I'd never felt this way about anybody before. Plenty of people had believed that Trout would win me over. He was the richest man, and he could have any of the other girls. But he wanted me, something he worked for like a pathetic prize. I was probably the first thing he'd ever truly had to work for. He smelled of fish, and often whiskey, his bucked smiling and winking always made me feel – quite uncomfortable. He made my skin crawl, unlike Sam, who was quietly witty, good with his hands as well as his words. When I stayed late to teacher older men how to read, he'd always come just to watch me, like he was inspecting me as his woman. Sam was willing to learn. He'd particularly liked poetry…

His favorite, I'd remembered him telling me, was Annabel Lee, but Edgar Allan Poe. I remembered once after class – it had been raining, he was leaning against my desk waiting for me to return, reading form my anthology of poetry that I happened to have left open on my desk. Well, he was struggling to read. I had had no idea how much he paid attention while he was fixing things while I taught. When he'd started reciting things I often read to the children, I realized the full extent of what he had paid attention to.

_Sam was brushing the falcon feather from his hat across the page as he read under his breath. I had watched him struggle on some words silently for a long time. I didn't even know if he knew I was there the entire time. I'd finally cleared my throat and made myself known. _

_ "Oh, Miss Katherine!" he jumped. I really don't think he knew of my presence. He was waiting for his peaches. "I was just reading some of this – poetry. Do you like Poe as much as I do?" he touched the feather to the tip of my nose, then tucked it back onto the brim of his hat. His smile had no gold-capped tooth. _

_ "I heard you today." I pointed to the window, which he'd been fixing today. I thought that he was tinkering with it a little longer so he could hear me reading to one of my students longer. "You must like him, if you know it by heart." _

_ His voice warmed up the room. "Yeah, he had some great fascination with death… usually of young pretty girls." He looked directly at me when he said it. "Young love, strong love, and tragedy." _

_ "Yes," I walked closer to him, I just needed to be that much closer. _

_ He shivered a little, getting that eager twinkle in his eyes. "I've always dreamed of what it would be like to live in a kingdom by the sea._

_ "And have your Annabel Lee?"_

_ "I haven't found her yet." He looked right at me again, his starry dark eyes I needed to melt in. "But when I do, even the angels will be jealous." He tipped his hat. "And she'll have on other thought than to be loved, and to be loved by me." _

_ "Sam…" I said, in awe of the craft and flow of his words. Without even thinking, I handed him the peaches he'd earned, though I felt like pulling them back just to talk to him for a while longer. It was hard not knowing when I'd see him next. I could've talked to him for hours without growing tired of his company. He he'd tipped his hat again and said. "Goodbye, Miss Katherine."_

_ "Wait!" _

_ He turned. "The door doesn't hang straight."_

"It's against the law." He interrupted my train of thought of the memory. "They could haul us away to prison. They could hang the both of us."

"I don't care about the law. I'll travel far and wide to find someone to marry us."

"You know, I was always partial to blonde hair." He stroked his thumb down the length of my hair that had come loose from behind my ear. his hat had slid down behind me, on my neck.

"Well, that's lucky for you Sam, because I love brown eyes." I leaned down at the exact moment he leaned up, and our lips connected for the second time. His warm hand slipped behind my back, and one of mine wrapped around his neck, holding the back of it with my fingers as if he might slip right between them.

After he pulled away, he planted another kiss between my eyes and then on my forehead. He was worth it. All of it. I'd give anything for him. He wasn't like any other man I'd encountered, and I knew he'd never dream or hurting me. Each time he held me, it was as if he was being careful. He could fix just about anything. He didn't pay attention to petty comments.

He rested his chin against my shoulder and I could feel every movement of his jaw as he spoke. "Let me take care of you."

It took me a moment to realize that he meant my injuries, when his hand slid down my waist. "Oh… Sam, I…" I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against the ragged material of his shirt again.

"Come 'ere." He led me over to the sink by my hand. "May I?" he held out his hands. I nodded and he lifted me up onto the counter. "I'll have you fixed up in no time, huh?" he pumped the water pump at the sink basin. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got my knee stuck in the rafter of this house?"

"No." I winced as he shed the dry bandages that had become stuck to the pruned hole, but I couldn't help but smile at him.

"Well, it was very trying. I was stuck for hours!" he threw his hands up. It was obvious that he was trying to distract me form the gore that I might see. "I finally had to wiggle myself out. Believe it or not, I used to be a string bean. Couldn't walk straight for three days – and I musta looked like a drunk, walking all crooked like that."

I laughed. "You do have a lot of stories, Sam."

"Well, that's what makes a person interesting, Miss Katherine." He stroked his thumb over my cheek once and washed the dry blood off of my skin. "This will heal within a few days." He observed as he wrung out the washrag in the basin of the sink and wet it again. his fair muscles flexed as he pumped the water again.

"Don't tell me one of your onion remedies is going to heal me faster, is it?" I teased. He did have a lot of things made from onions, other than the vegetables in their rawest form. Stomachache medicine, cough syrup, a tonic to supposedly cure baldness, and even a substance to keep away the dreadful yellow-spotted lizards.

"Of course not, wouldn't that be something though?" his fingers slowly brushed the top button of my blouse. I caught his hand and began to undo the buttons from top to bottom. Of course, I was wearing the white underdress and underclothes, but never had I been so exposed to a man. Gentle, quiet Sam was silent, as he was much of the time.

He fell against the cabinets, slightly rattling them as my hand curled up on his chest, and his hands tangled in my hair. His hat slipped farther down my neck, and I pulled away slowly, realizing that half of the buttons on my blouse were undone.

"Miss Katherine –" he started, a soft smile on his lips that were still extremely close to mine.

"You don't need to call me 'Miss' anymore." I whispered, inching in closer and pressing my lips to his one more time. "Only my students call me that." my heart sank a little, remembering my students. Would I ever see them again? How would they go to school? Which made me wonder how I would ever return to town. Sam couldn't go back for a moment without a mob joining up, surely to feather and tar him at the least. I alone would cause quite a riot among the men. But I needed things. I couldn't wear Sam's clothes, and the only other thing I had was ruined.

"Sam, I'm going to have to go back to town to get my things." I said quietly as the sun rose higher through the kitchen window, through the tattered curtains.

The solemn man nodded. "By yourself?"

I nodded. Our escape had been essential, but now I needed to return to Green Lake, as much as I didn't want to. But my small house was at the edge of town, tiny, I being the only one living in it. I'd taken it after being offered the teaching position that had been long since empty. The woman living next door was an old woman that was mean to everyone she came across, especially Sam. I hoped she wouldn't throw my things out on the streets for the buzzards to pick.

"But you can't now. You're hurt." None of the usual humor was in his voice. "I can't let you."

"I'll be alright in a few days." He was just so – nice, so pure. Part of the reason I wanted to marry him. None of it was of spite. There were plenty of others that wanted me just in spite of another who did. Many had tried to win me over, some were more obvious, others it took me a while to figure out if they were just being kind. But there was one I wanted, and I discovered too late. Now we were in this mess. If it wasn't against the law, I would go to the judge and sign the papers for our marriage. But today, that would get us a bullet between the eyes, or something not even as nice as such. But no matter what, I knew someday I would marry Sam Garter, it didn't matter what the rest of the world thought. I loved him, and we would live together in our kingdom by the sea.

**Hello! Please review! The next couple chapters will be way better, I promise! Please hang in there, if there is anyone at all!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three

I waited a few more days before finally deciding I could go into town. I chose to wait partially because I loved the little house. In fact, I adored it, and I loved it here. I also chose to stay because of Sam. He told me he would let me go by myself, but only if I allowed myself to heal for a bit. Of course, I had given into his pleading. I couldn't help it.

The next couple of days, he told me some stories about his life, and gave me a better tour of the house. It was a strange design, with a smaller room built in the front, a smaller room off the side for the bedroom, and the loft that was my favorite. Up the stairs was a small little upstairs that would probably only be classified as a loft, and it was relatively cold up there. But it had a small octagonal window that was perfect for watching the sun rise and set. Also, you could see everything on the property form that very same window, the barn that he used to keep Mary Lou his donkey in, the chickens that ran around the yard searching for stray seed, and his old cat slinked around the yard every now and again when he wasn't meowing at the door. The raggedy tabby had become my friend over the past few days, the old tom cat that Sam had named DustBunny when he saved it from the woods. He often decided to sleep curled up next to my injured side.

Speaking of night, he always insisted that I have the bed, because I was wounded, I was a lady, and ladies shouldn't sleep on the floor. I reminded him time and again that he too, was wounded too, but he always pushed it off. Then I tried a new approach, telling him he could sleep in the bed with me, but he said he wouldn't do that until we were married. I knew he wanted to. He wanted to very badly, I could tell. But he didn't. Maybe because he was nervous.

But every night, I would get into bed in my white under-dress that was all I had to serve as pajamas, and Sam would come to my side and whisper "I love you, Katherine Barlow", and I would smile as he gently kissed me on the lips and climbed down onto the floor. I mentioned that he could sleep up in the loft where there was a soft mattress and nice view of the yard, but he insisted that he slept right next to me, in case I needed anything.

While I listened to him fall asleep, a soft snore in the back of his throat, I would try to plan out how I would sneak back into Green Lake to get my things. I obviously couldn't swim, seen as how the lake went on for miles, and I hadn't swam in years anyway. I eventually decided that I would have to take Sam's boat and conceal it so I could sneak into town. I would have to drag it into the woods to hide it, then figure out the best way to get my things in the present. Now that I had the plan, I knew waiting was over, and I was well enough to head to Green Lake in the morning.

"Sam," I tapped my nails quietly on the counter that night. It was particularly warm for September today, but night had made things chilly. A fire blazed in the hearth now, the warmth circulating around the room to warm us. "What if someone follows me back? They think you're dead."

He shook his head and smiled slightly. "Katherine Barlow, you must not have enough room in your head for anything but worry." Setting down his evening cup of coffee, he ran a finger down my temple to my chin. He knew that always tickled me, and he liked to see my smile. He often did it with the feather he'd given to me that I carried in my pocket, he'd steal it while I wasn't looking and come up from behind and tickle me. Sometimes he'd do it to wake me up, but I'd gotten smarter and hidden it under my pillow. But somehow, he still managed to get it. "Tomorrow, I'll be away in my onion patch, where no one can find me. I'll know when you're returning, because I can see you from there." He kissed my cheek and looked out the window. "Stop worrying, already."

I smiled again, mostly because of his charming effect. No other man had ever dazzled me before in my life, so the feeling of butterflies in my stomach were welcome. No, they weren't butterflies – these were more like birds, or less graceful bats flying around inside of me. "Will you please sleep in the bed tonight?"

"You sleep in the bed."

"Sleep with me." I took his hand and held it between mine. I knew it wasn't exactly comfortable for him to sleep on the floor every night, and it was his bed. Each morning, he woke unrested. Sam was about to give in, I could see it. So he took my hand and led me to the bed. After I had lied down, he did his regular routine where he leaned over and kissed me, then slid into the bed. Finally feeling comforted, I turned toward his side, wrapping my arms around his right one, closing my eyes.

The sun shining through the window and casting unusual shapes on the wall were what woke me in the morning. I was still huddled close to Sam when I opened my eyes, and he had his arms limply around me. they say that a person looks younger when they sleep, and I understood the meaning of it now. Sam looked about ten years younger than his age – a young teenager in his sleep.

He woke to a start, lifting his head up off his pillow groggily. "Is it morning?"

"It's morning." I smiled and pecked him on the lips. "I better be on my way within the next hour if I'm going to try and go unnoticed."

"Why would you want to?" he slightly startled me when he leaned over with his hands holding him up on either side of my torso, leaning down to kiss me. "Why would someone want to miss the prettiest face in the world?"

"Sam!" I giggled like a little schoolgirl as he got out of bed. He'd slept in his clothes, something I noticed he did often. "If you haven't forgotten, they tried to shoot me down, I doubt they'll be thrilled to see me."

He started to unbutton the brown vest that he wore over his white shirt, facing the window away from me as he watched the sun crawl up into its usual place. "Don't be afraid to club 'em upside the head if they try and hurt you."

"Sam! It would hardly be lady-like!" I exclaimed, throwing a pillow at his back. Then again, throwing pillows wasn't either.

"It would serve them right. But you're right, violence isn't the answer." He let his white shirt fall to the floor, and the muscles in his back flexed and moved under his skin. I couldn't keep my eyes off of them.

After he dressed, and we had breakfast, he led me down to where the boat had been tied for the past few days. He dragged it into the water, and it bobbed up and down with the tide.

"Careful." He waded partly into the water and lifted me into the wobbly, tippy Mary Lou. He gave a round-about check for leaks, cracks in the sealed tight wood, broken oar loops.

"I'll be fine. I promise." I placed my hand aside his cheek, guiding him to look at me. "I'll be there to collect my things, then I'll be back."

He smiled. "Every time I find a particularly pretty onion," he softly pinched my cheek. "I'll think of you."

I kissed the back of his hand. "There are pretty onions?"

"Well, of course. The perfect ones." He placed his boot on the stern of the boat. "I'll be watching for you."

"I'll expect you when I return." I winked at him and took the oars, bringing them in towards myself to propel. The sun wasn't at its highest, and I could see my breath. It wasn't as warm as yesterday; it was starting to feel more like fall.

"If anything goes wrong…" Sam trailed off worriedly. I fingered the falcon feather I tucked in my pocket.

"Don't be a doubter, Sam Garter." I winked at him again and pulled the light-weight oars inward again. He gave it a little nudge at the stern to give me a slight boost.

"Have a safe trip." He smiled and blew me a silly little kiss, tipping his hat. I pretended to catch it after ceasing rowing for a second. Sam smirked and turned to walk back to the house, pulling his coat up around his shoulders farther.

I soon realized that Sam just always made rowing look so easy, with his muscles he'd built up over time, and high stamina. He was so much bigger, and I was very small. I wasn't a weakling, but my arms tired out fast, and my sides started to ache. But I continued anyway.

The sun climbed higher, but it was still cold. Tidal water lapped the sides of the boat, spraying me with cold splashes, and I could see my breath each time I let it out. Looking over my shoulder, I could already see the other side of land, just the spot that I planned to dock, and conceal the boat in the trees and brush. The only thing I worried about now was being too noticed, and that dreadful Trout. If he saw me, things might go downhill. I hoped that he was out of town, or at least home, so I could get my things and flee.

I climbed out of the Mary Lou when I hit land, pulling it up onto the rocky shore. Clouds loomed overhead, like it might rain, an icy rain. It was even colder now, or so it seemed. The side of the turf seemed deserted, at least for now. But pulling the heavy boat by myself was easier than I thought, except for getting the minor rope burns, and I already had a few blisters from the wooden oars. I brushed off the pain and found a nice place where no one would find my means of transportation, and started towards town.

I lived in a tiny little house barely big enough for two people to have any elbow room. I lived on my own since I departed from my parents to start teaching and make something of myself. What would they think of me now? _"Frolicking around with a colored man,"_ Father would probably call it. _"Don't you know they carry all sorts of diseases that we don't! You'll get yourself sick and killed touching him at all!"_ That was exactly what he'd say; I could hear it in my head. Mother might be a little more understanding, because once, she fell in love with my father. She long since stopped loving him when he started drinking, then beating, but she always tried. She always said she loved me more than air. She also taught me everything I knew. Never to let a man control you, first off. I knew that the man I'd found would never use his gender against me – he knew he was stronger, and bigger, but I could be just as intimidating if I wanted to! He was the one who let me row his boat across the lake by myself!

I leaned down at my doorstep and dug the key out of its secret hole in the brick foundation of the house, and quietly slipped it into the keyhole. The door creaked open, and I stepped inside, shutting it quietly because it was already cold inside. The house was just as I left it. A bushel of peaches sat on the small counter in a wooden basket, surely rotting, and I'd never pulled the plug on the sink, so dirty dish water sat still in the sink basin. Thank God I remembered to turn the burners off, or there might not be a house.

I walked into the small bedroom. The bed-sheets were still jumbled and untouched; a pillow was on the floor. Papers had fluttered off the desk because the window had been left open, but luckily, there was no damage from the rain. I opened the drawer to my bureau and checked to make sure my clothes were still there. They were, so I opened my small truck that I used for traveling that had been empty for a long time. Then I collected my clothes and neatly folded them in my trunk, tucking each thing in carefully. I picked it up by the handles and carried it to the kitchen where I put the last two jars of spiced peaches in between a few folds of clothing where they would be cushioned.

Happy to finally get out of my dirty, ripped clothes, I washed my face in the sink and dressed in fresh clothes. Then I did my hair in the mirror, tucking it under with a few pins, letting my newly-brushed curls hang down my back in one tail.

The trunk was already heavy on its own, and new weight to it made it even more difficult to carry. I had to set it down two separate times to open and close the door as it was. Whenever I took a step, it hit my knees. It was going to take a while to carry it all the way back to the boat. Slow baby steps did the trick, and the street looked pretty much deserted. Shop owners were preparing for the days, the town blacksmiths were clanging away in their shop, getting the fires ready. A few early-risers were doing their chores early. I stopped to rest my arms, holding my hand son my knees.

"Katherine?" I looked up and met the soft face of one of my friends, Levity. I'd known her for a long time, despite our age difference, and her sweet little children Abe and Ellen were some of my best, well-behaved students. "What in God's name do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, Levity!" I cried, wanting to throw my arms around her, but they were too tired. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to keep them warm instead. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"I wish I could say the same." She hissed, taking my hand. "You've been gone for days! Everyone's been thinkin' you're dead!"

"I assure you, that I'm not. But Levity," I looked her straight in the eyes. "Can you keep a secret?"

I told my friend everything. How Sam and I did kiss in the schoolhouse, how I'd been shot in the woods, and how wounded Sam had found me. We'd survived together. She listened contently, and at the end of telling her how I needed to carry the trunk back to the hidden boat. I started to cry and pressed my forehead against her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back.

"There, there, Katherine, don't cry." She soothed in her mothering voice. Then, to my surprise, she picked up one end of the chest and motioned for me to pick up the other. It was much easier on my already-tired arms for two people to carry it, and we'd secured it in the boat and pulled it into the water in no time.

"How can I ever thank you?"

"Oh, I don't need payback. Sometimes you just do things to help people out." She smiled at me genuinely. "If you ever need anything, you come to me. oh, and tell that Sam of yours hello from me." she winked and smiled warmly.

My arms were so tired, I could barely row. I could feel the muscles clenching and straining each time I pulled the oars inward against the water, which seemed even more angry and lapped against the boat, rocking it with such a strong force. Everything seemed to move so slowly. I stopped for a moment to finger the falcon feather in my deep pocket. It made me wonder if Sam was watching me from his onion patch.

Finally, I saw the shore over my shoulder, and as promised, Sam was waiting for me. He pulled the boat up onto the stony beach and lifted me from the seat by my waist. His hands were so gentle – like he was afraid to break me or something.

"I'm alright, I'm alright, Sam." I reassured him, and he smiled, leaning down and kissing me. I closed my eyes, his eyelashes brushing against my cheeks, and wrapped my arms instinctively around his neck. His coat was warm, and his lips were even warmer.

"I know you are." He smile and kissed me between the eyes. "I see you got your stuff." He lifted the entire trunk up with such ease, I almost forgot how heavy it was. He made lifting it look so easy! "So, did you get blisters?"

I followed him into the house, sighing at the warmth of the blazing fire. Sam slightly laughed. "Let me see them."

I held out my palms for him and he laughed again. "You poor girl." Sam chuckled, gently cradling my tiny hand in his huge, calloused one. "Everything turns to callous eventually."

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I didn't run into any trouble. And by that, I mean Trout."

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Good. Or I mighta had to show him that this isn't just for cutting onion roots." He flipped open his pocket knife, but put it away at my shocked expression.

"Sam…" I smiled lightly, stroking my thumb over his umber cheek.

"Oh, yeah… I have something for you." He said, stroking a bit of hair I'd missed with a pin back behind my ear.

"Oh Sam, you didn't have to get me anything." I put my hands on my hips. "Is it a pretty onion?"

He smiled widely, remembering our conversation from earlier this morning. "No, but I hope you think it's better." He reached into his pocket, and his hand emerged with a small ring. It was a dazzlingly shiny gold, with a small crystalized pearl imbedded in the socket in the middle.

"Oh… Sam." I said in awe. "It's – it's so… beautiful."

"It was my mother's ring." He said, taking my left hand and slipping it onto my ring finger. "There, now everyone will know you're taken."

I held my hand out in front of me, staring at the dazzling engagement ring. I had never seen one like it before. The shop in town had plenty of imported jewels – diamonds, opals, sapphires, even jades, but I'd never seen a pearl in one of the display windows.

"Sam," I smiled, it was all I could say, taking his face in my hands. "I think it's beautiful. It's the loveliest ring I've ever seen."

"I'm glad you like it." He smiled and put his hands on my shoulders. We're engaged now. We'll just need to find someone out of their mind to marry us."

I leaned up and pecked him on the lips. "Sam, where have you been? You smell like –" I took another whiff of his coat. "Hay?"

He smiled a mischievous smile. "Come out to the barn, I'll show you." Taking my hand, he led me out to the tiny little barn that he used to keep Mary Lou in. A few of the hens scattered as he pulled me by the hand through the yard, stirring up the dust with the hem of my skirt, and he pulled me through the wide, tall door.

A young donkey stood alone in the little stall, it's giant ears too big for its head. The little thing was a powdery gray color, nearly white at its young age, and it let out a high pitched bleat to greet me.

"Sam!" I grinned and playfully hit his arm. "What have you done this time?"

"Well, it's obviously a donkey."

"I can see that." I smiled modestly and reached out to pat the animals' little fuzzy forehead. It lowed at me, a soft tiny sound that was so adorable that I fell to my knees to wrap my arms around his fuzzy little neck. "He's perfect."

"I got him at the next town over." He kneeled down next to me and put his hand on my back. The baby brayed again and wobbled a small bit on his legs. His huge ears that were about three sizes too big for his face flicked at a fly. I brushed it away for him, and kissed the bridge of his long nose.

"There's a town near?" I took a break from watching our new pet lick his nose with his long tongue to look up at him.

"Not a town, really." He scratched his head, patting the ground for the donkey to come closer to him. He took a few steps and licked Sam's nose. "A small town, actually. More of a development. Not many people live there yet. I sometimes go there to get food or supplies. I bought him off of a guy trying to wean him off of his mother, and I figured I'd need a new donkey to pull a new cart."

"He's adorable." I said, stroking his surprisingly soft giant ears. "What's his name?"

"I figured I would call him Louie, for Mary Lou."

"That's perfect." I agreed, patting Louie's snout. He reminded me a lot of old Mary Lou. Every market day, when I'd see Sam, I would purchase extra onions to feed her, and hug her neck. My heart ached for the old girl, but the baby filled the hole.

"Once he grows a little, he'll be big enough to pull a cart." He held out an onion to him, and he eagerly took it between his teeth. "You look exhausted." Laughing a little, he stood again and climbed up to sit on the gate of the stall.

"I rowed across the lake twice, what do you think?" I slipped between the bars and laid lengthwise on a few bales of hay that were pushed together. He swung his legs over so he was facing the opposite way, so he could look at me. I held up my left hand above me, grinning and admiring it again. "And it's only midafternoon."

"Even with the sun, it's cold out. But I suppose it will be getting colder. It's nearly the end of summer." He pondered the thought for a short moment. "Maybe it will start snowing soon."

"It may be a little early for that." I said as he jumped down, his boots hitting the ground with a thump. He lifted my head up gently then sat down, setting it in his lap, looking down at me. I loved winter the most out of all the other seasons. It was the season where everyone wanted to be closer, friendlier. Of course, I'd always gotten some unwanted attention from men who wanted to take me out, give me things. There was another thing I hated about winter too. No Sam in winter. The onions didn't grow in the cold months, of course, and he had no cause to come into town.

He tangled his fingers in my hair gently, running them through the length of my long curls. "They know where I live, you know."

I opened my eyes that had since been closed as he absentmindedly played with my hair. "Yes… so?" then I realized. If they figured out – Sam and I, being together – it was only a short ride across the lake to grab us in our sleep. "Oh." My spirits sank. I didn't want to think about what they'd do to him, about what they would do to myself for finding me with Sam. The sheriff and police would do whatever Trout's family wanted, since the Walkers owned the town and the lake, not to mention that they paid their wages. I shuddered. "What do we do, then?"

Louie hee-hawed as if to answer, and rolled onto his back in the hay. It stuck to his coarse, dusty-looking fur.

"We move, I suppose." He sighed, and I could tell how much he loved the house. I loved the house, every bit of it. I was quiet for a while, rubbing my hand on Louie's stout, chubby belly. He nudged my hand through the bars and slobbered on it, making strands of fluffy white hay stick to my fingers. Where would Sam move us to? My heart ached at the thought of being separated from him again.

"Where would we move to, Sam?" I asked aloud. He removed his hat and tossed it down in the hay. I picked it back up and put it on Louie. He seemed to think he was quite handsome; he lowed quietly and ruffled up the hay he was laying on.

"There's a town, as I said. I know some people down there form when I go into town. I saw they were renting a few places. Maybe you could get a job, my onion patch is close enough to walk."

I turned to Louie, who did look dashing in Sam's hat. His big ears didn't fit in it, so they were pushed down until they were almost flat.

"What do you think, Lou? Do you want to move?"

He brayed in response.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi readers, the very few of you! Haha! I know that this chapter is a little bit longer than previous ones! Please read and review!**

Chapter Four

"Is this too much for him to carry?" I turned to Sam who was loading my truck, which I now was sharing with him, onto the small wagon which was connected to Louie. Over the past few weeks, he had grown up a bit, and Sam had been strengthening the little donkey by helping him pull the newly built wagon, adding weight bit by bit. Louie pawed the ground.

"Naw," Sam put his arm around me gently. "Pullin' makes donkies stronger."

I looked at Louie, and his eyes seemed to smile. He showed me his crooked donkey teeth as if he were looking for my approval, and I reached out to pat his head. Sam laughed.

"Do you mind walking?" he rubbed my shoulder gently with his palm, and I moaned softly with pleasure. He leaned in and kissed me gently on the cheek.

"Not at all." I reassured him.

"I could carry you." Sam teased, lightly tugging on one of my light blonde curls.

"Sam!" I blushed and half laughed like I often did, hitting him playfully on the arm. He slung his arm from around my shoulders back to his side.

"It isn't that far a walk." He reassured, though I was actually looking forward to the walk to our new town, Port Lavaca. It wasn't that far – about eleven miles, Sam said. It would probably take us a few hours to get there, but it would be much safer there for us, if someone were to find an abandoned house instead of Sam and me living there. I was going to miss the house, and I could tell that Sam would too, but we were starting a new life together. And it was a pleasant day in early October, and the last wildflowers were blooming all along the bank of the river for their last hurrah. Just this morning, I had gone down to the bank and collected water lilies. When I set one down on the brim of Sam's hat, he laughed deeply and scooped me into a deep kiss. It was like I could still taste him on my lips, and that made the quest ahead of us much better looking. Besides, I liked to take long walks.

"Sam, it's truly fine." I pecked him on his cheek and leaned down. "Are you ready to pull your first wagon, my darling, baby Louie?"

He didn't respond, but he pawed the ground again like he was trying to draw a picture with his hoof.

The three of us set off as a cool autumn breeze blew, every now and then stopping to give Louie a rest. Sam explained that he would possibly be going back to get a few more things from the house once we were settled. We didn't have to worry about the cat, DustBunny, because he slinked along behind us. He liked to follow me now, wherever I was, he was close behind. He became quite protective of me – if there was a rustle in the brush, his hackles would raise, and he'd hiss, jumping to my side. He still slept curled beside me at night, but now I just had Sam on my other side.

A warmer draft breeze blew, possibly the last bit of summer warmness. The days were growing chillier, more livid, the light hours shorter and the dark hours longer. Autumn would soon arrive, to color the leaves in vibrant splashes, and paint the skies in moody pastel grays. A nice season to start a new life.

Sam cleared his throat, interrupting my smog of thoughts. "Are you tired yet?" he teased.

"Not at all." I took his hand and held it at our sides, between us. He swung it softly, as gentle as the last summer breeze warmness, and smiled.

We walked for a few more miles, then rested, sitting on top of the cart. When we were about half way there, it was noon, and we'd started at about ten. In fact, I wasn't really all that tired. I felt like I could keep going for miles and miles, as long as I had him. We set off again on the dirt road, stirring up a little dust with the wagon wheels, but we made good time. It was about five miles when we hit the outskirts of town where there were a few small houses. Louie did well carrying our luggage, but he got bored and tried to gnaw on the lead rope Sam used to pull him along.

"Come on, boy," Sam urged, yanking on the lead. "Let's not play games."

Louie played tug again, trying to pull him in by tossing his neck back and forth. Sam pulled again, but the stubborn donkey brayed in protest, pulling harder.

"Louie," I scolded, snatching the part of the rope that was tied around his neck. His pulling ceased, and he hung his head.

"I don't see how you do it." Sam shook his head and wiped his brow.

"Let's face it, Sam." I grinned. "He knows who's in charge." Louie seemed to give him a smug look, as if he were agreeing with me. Sam tickled down my cheek with his finger again, just to see me smile.

A few children ran by on our way into town, followed by a barking collie dog. Oh, how I missed the children. They probably missed me too; they all loved me, and everyone knew it. Many of their parents claimed they hated school before I had become their teacher. Each and every one of those children I taught always wanted to talk to me, tell me things. And I loved to talk to them, too. The children were my favorite thing, before Sam started coming to fix things.

"Soon it will be time for them to start school again." Sam mentioned, still holding my hand. I tightened my grip on his hand as we entered the actual town. There were a few nice shops – a jeweler, silver and leather-smith, a butcher. There was even a small candy shop, and lollipops and peppermints could be viewed through the window.

We stopped at an office with Landlord painted white on the sign, parking Louie and our cart outside. "Now, you be good." I warned him as if he were a young child, and could understand, tying his lead rope around the post outside. "And tonight we'll find you a nice place to sleep."

I took Sam's hand again and walked through the small wooden door that swung a few times when it fell shut. It was surprisingly warm in the small building, and roomy. As we approached the desk, I studied a dark men, as dark as Sam, had his feet up on the long wooden desk, the bottoms of his boots were caked in mud, and his pants were tucked in to them. His had was of black felt, and curled up at the edges, round on top.

"Sammy-Boy!" he grinned, his dark, sunbaked skin making crow's-feet at the edges of his dark eyes. There was a young boy sitting next to him who was light skinned and had freckles along with a leftover sun burn. He was sliding a bow across violin strings, and he looked up and immediately started to blush, even through the sunburn. "Long time no see, you're startin' to look old."

_"No_, he ain't." the freckled boy kicked the dark man's muddy feet off the desk, nodding toward me. "He looks just as old as last time, not a second older, Clarence."

"Oh, shut your gob boy, you don't know nothin'." Clarence scratched the half-gray half-black stubble on his scruffy chin. "What can I do ya for, Sammy-Boy? Who's this?" his eyes, too, traveled to me.

"Clarence, Randy," he smiled at the town of them, the man that must be in his fifties or early sixties, Clarence, and the younger one who must be Randy. "I'd like to introduce you to Katherine."

Randy stared at me. "How come you get all the pretty ones, Sam?"

"Thought I told ya ta shut that gob o' yours." Clarence pinched the younger boy's lips between two of his fingers as if he were clamping them off. I giggled and they both blushed at me. "Nice ta meecha, Miss Katherine." He reached out his leathery hand and shook mine. His handshake was soft and gentle on my hand. I smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." I even curtseyed a little bit. He smiled back at me.

"Come on, boy, be polite!" Clarence kicked Randy, who dropped his fiddle bow.

"Ow!" he complained, reaching down to rub his leg. He caught me giggling, blushing again. "Hello." When I shook his hand, it was damp and warm, nearly shaking.

"Very nice to meet you." I smiled and gave his a polite nod, like my mother taught me. He grinned back; his teeth were quite crooked, but fairly white and well taken care of.

Clarence grunted as he hoisted himself down, the mud squishing on the wooden floor. "So, you looking for a place to stay, sweetheart?" he smiled.

"Actually –" I started.

"No, honey, I was talkin' to Sam!" he cracked up and Randy started laughing as well. Sam sighed and blew it off, laughing as well.

"Actually, yeah, that's what I came to talk to you about." Sam rested his hand gently on my waist. I rested my hand over his – he obviously saw his friends looking at me, especially Randy, but I didn't even worry about them. "We need a place to go. We can't stay at my old place anymore."

"Why can't ya stay there no more Sammy? You on the lam or somethin'? I hope not, 'cause now ya got yourself a girlfriend, ain't gonna be needin' that lamb no more!" Clarence cracked up laughing, but it took Randy a moment to understand the joke before he started chuckling. Even I laughed, but Sam didn't seem to think it was so funny.

"Clarence…" Sam sighed, shaking his head. But I could see a laugh trying to escape.

"Aw, come on fellas… I was just makin' a joke… come on Sammy, ya know I don't mean nothin' literally." Clarence stretched out his arms behind his back, cranking them behind him. He was shorter than Sam, I noticed. As a matter of fact, he wasn't much taller than me – I would guess he was probably about five foot six inches, maybe even less. Only a few inches taller than myself. "So, are ya runnin' away?"

"Kind of." Sam scratched the back of his head and rubbed the back of his shoulder. "Kind of – a personal matter. We want to find a place to settle down. Where it's safe for us."

Clarence seemed to understand, nodding a few times. Randy was staring at my hand. Studying my ring. "Pretty ring, Miss K." his ears that stuck out turned bright red.

I smiled. "Thank you." I looked at it myself as if to make sure it hadn't disappeared in the last five minutes. The polished pearl was silky and shiny, just as always.

"Anyway, lemme check if I can find any place for ya'll." Clarence cleared his throat and stood on the toes of his muddy boots to get a leather book on the top shelf. "I got a ton of deeds here, let's see what I can fine." He pulled out a pair of reading spectacles from his jacket pocket and began to leaf through. Randy started to play a little tune on his fiddle again, probably trying to impress me. I didn't mind when people tried to impress me – it was sometimes flattering, and the boy couldn't be much older than sixteen.

"Ha! I think I found the place you's asked me about last time you was here… this old house." Clarence pulled out the deed and waved it like a prize. "Wanna go look at it, Sammy-Boy?"

"Do you wanna stay here, love?" Sam asked, turning to rub my arm. Love; it was the first time he called me that. "We musta walked ten miles or more!"

"I can stay here." I leaned up and pecked him on the cheekbone. I wasn't all that tired, but I wanted the house to be a surprise. Clarence took a brown wooden cane from a hook on the wall.

"Clare, whatcha got that for? You don't need no cane!" Randy stopped playing his instrument and slapped his hand on the tall desk loudly.

"Boy, don'tcha know! Canes are classy these days! They're all the rage!" he straightened his hat and snapped his black suspenders, sticking his nose in the air like a young aristocrat.

"Last time you had class is when you was in school." Randy piffed, rolling his eyes, plucking a string on the fiddle like it was a piece of grass stretched between two twigs.

"Aw, shut your piehole, Randall. We'll be back soon enough." Clarence smiled fully and waved at me. He was missing a pinky. "Bye-bye, Miss Katherine."

Sam waved too, disappearing out the door of the landlord's office after Clarence. I saw the clumsy, older man plant a full kiss on Louie's forehead, then run to catch up with Sam who was already started down the road to the left.

Randy was staring at me again. He was young, and it was kind of cute, so I smiled, smoothing down the front of my skirt, tracing the design on the thin belt that I wore. I'd attempt to make conversation. "So, are you and Clarence," I stopped to think for a moment. "related?"

Randy cocked his chin up, like he had to think. I was getting the feeling that he wasn't the brightest of teenagers, but he had an innocent look to him. His slowness shouldn't degrade him as a person. "He's my Uncle Clarence. My mama's sister." He scratched his chin that had a bit of blonde scruff. "I'm apprenticin' him here 'cause my Daddy been dead a year now. I needa get some kinda job."

"I'm so sorry for your loss." I said sympathetically.

"Yeah, but he's in a better place now." He leaned back and started to play again.

"How long have you been playing?"

Only his eyes moved, rolling up to look at me. "Ten years."

"Very impressive." I smiled. "I play the piano."

His face lit up. "We got a piano in the back. I ain't never had a partner before, Miss Katherine. Not ever."

I offered him my hand, and he looked even more surprised that before, his ears turning the color of a crab. "I'd be honored to be your playing partner."

Randy took my hand – his was still clammy and warm – and jumped down from his desk chair. The floorboards creaked under his bare feet as he landed, still holding tightly onto my hand, grinning as he led me behind the desk, into a small room. To me, it looked like a living space; a sofa sat pushed up against the wall, a small table and three chairs were in the corner.

"This where me an' Uncle Clarence live." He explained. Pulling the dusty cover off of an old, wooden-framed piano. It was an old beauty, with ivory keys and etchings scrawled into the rims. I fell in love with it.

"Oh, it's beautiful/" I sat on the matching wooden bench.

"Ain't no one been playin' it since Clarence lost 'is pinky… he says it 'effects his skill'." Randy said in a sing-song voice. "Do you play good?"

I ran my fingers along the pale keys. "I guess…" I had many memories of my mother sitting me down at the old piano, teaching me scales and Mary had a Little Lamb. "You're very pretty, Katherine," she'd tell me, pinching my cheek. "But you shouldn't just rely on your beauty. Now, practice your scales."

He put his bare foot on one of the chairs at the small table, resting his fiddle on his chin, and my ears perked up at the tune. It was a song I loved to play all of my life, a song called Long, Long Ago. My brother Johnny and I used to skip through the woods singing it as children, and it brought back pleasant childhood memories.

My fingers hit the keys and played along with him. It had been a long time since I played the piano at all, partly because I didn't own one, so I was a little rusty.

Randy laughed and tapped his bare toes. "I didn't know you was that good." His cheeks turned pale pink and I watched his Adam's apples gulp down nervously. "Does Sam know you play that good?"

"Sam's never heard me play."

"How come? How long you twos been married?" he made his fingers into two links and locked them together.

I traced over the etchings of the piano again. "We're – not married."

He cocked his head and scratched his chin again. "How come?"

It was so strange… like he had no idea. I looked up to study his expression. It was one of innocent cluelessness. "Because he's black… and I'm white."

He piffed and waved it off with his hand. "My mama's black, my daddy was white. Palest guy I ever seen, too. Paler than you!" he laughed and played a long, drawn out note on one vibrating string. "And you're paler than a baby's bottom!"

I thought for a moment. "Who married them?"

He smirked. "My uncle got qualified and married them. I donno, I wasn't even born… but I seen Clarence in a suit. Hoo hoo!" he chuckled. "He looked like a damn monkey's uncle!" he started to crack up, dropping his violin bow.

"Your uncle married them?" I pried, my voice quick and alight.

"Yeah, that's true." He stared at my pearl ring again.

I smiled and turned back around, my fingers flying on the keys again. We played Long, Long Ago a few times through, and also a few other songs I remembered from my childhood.

"Honey, I'm home!" I felt a smooch on my cheek, a scraggy smooch, and howls of laughter came from behind me. Clarence and Sam had somehow snuck in while we were mid-song, and I touched my cheek where Clarence's whiskers had brushed. He was hooting with laughter at my startledness, even Sam was laughing. Randy looked as though he didn't get it.

"Oh, be nice to her." Sam scolded, putting his hand on my shoulder. DustBunny rubbed against my legs; he must have snuck in with the two men, he might have even been meowing at the door for me since they left. He jumped onto the piano bench beside me and rubbed his narrow body against my arm.

"No, it's alright." I smiled lightly and kissed Clarence right on the cheek. I didn't have to lean but a few inches to reach. "Are there any other takers?"

"Why don't I get a kiss?" Randy complained in a whine. I walked a few paces closer to him and smiled, pecking him on the cheek. He blushed again; I was beginning to think that was something he did often.

"There, now is everyone happy? Everyone's had a kiss." Clarence rolled his eyes and banged his cane loudly on the floor. I imagined all he needed was a little top hat to go with his funny little cane.

"Very happy." Randy seemed to sway happily, his lazy little eyes drifting all around the room.

"Katherine, you need to see the house." Sam's hand slipped down my shoulder. "I bet it's somethin' you're gonna like."

"Even got a little bungalow for that there donkey out there." Clarence used his cane to poke Randy in the foot as he started playing an extremely out of tune ballad. The young boy smirked and set his fiddle aside, patting it once. "I tell you, that animal there is gonna be one happy ass."

I grinned into my sleeve and Randy burst out laughing.

"What is it with you young people these days?" Clarence looked mildly offended, which only made Randy laugh more. "A donkey is called an ass, that's how we all used to say it like it was nothin'! Mary rode to Bethlehem on an ass, multiple asses were there when Jesus was born, and Jesus rode on many asses!"

Sam broke, it wasn't just Randy and I chortling now.

"I ain't talkin' 'bout donkies no more, Miss Barlow, we'd like ta take ya to see the house." Clarence offered me his arm, and I smiled and took it as he led me out of the room.

When I first saw my house, it took my breath away. It was not just a house, I knew it was immediately _my _house, mine and Sam's.

Clarence led me through the quaint picket fence that had faded from bright white to a peeling yellow. Sam and I could repaint it later.

The house itself was small, but not like a matchbox. It was painted a pleasant robin egg blue, with white trim and windows. Clarence explained that it was a sweet and small one-story with two bedrooms.

"Front door made o' solid wood, Miss Katherine." Clarence opened the door after unlocking it with a small key. I noticed the little porch that wrapped around just over half the house, and I imagined wicker chairs in the summer, where Sam and I could sit and watch the sunset and see the stars come out.

"It's very nice, Clarence."

"And here we have the main room." he strutted like a rooster into the main part of the house, tapping his cane on the hardwood floor. I took a look around. There was a beautiful stone fireplace, it two chairs placed in front of it. I imagined Sam and I sitting in them, fire blazing, quiet between the two of us because we were watching the mesmerizing flames.

"They left the furniture, Clarence?" I turned to the funny man. "The people who lived here before?"

"I guess it's a sorta a welcome home present to the both o' ya. He shrugged and smiled with his crooked teeth.

"Speaking of welcome home," Sam turned to me and took both of my hands. "Is this your home, Katherine Barlow?"

I smiled, wondering why he even needed to ask. Couldn't Clarence and Sam see the excitement and joy in my eyes? I loved the little house more than any place I had ever seen. I couldn't see myself in any other place than this house. I stroked over his knuckles.

"This is our home." I grinned, thinking of all the time we would have together in our new home. "Sam the Onion Man."

Sam grinned ear-to-ear. His warm eyes seemed to look into my soul and read exactly how much I loved the house. It was already a home, not just a building constructed of wooden planks and windows and doors. I loved our home already.

"We'll take it Clarence." Sam turned to our friend. Clarence smiled widely, the gaps in his otherwise perfect smile showing.

"I had a feelin' you'd say that. now let's get those deeds signed."

When it was official and Sam and I owned the property, everything seemed real then. It was our first home together, and everything felt to right.

I hugged Clarence on the wrap-around porch. "Thank you so much. You've been such a big help." I patted his back gently, and he smiled warmly. He was already a friend to me.

"Anytime, Miss K." he shook my hand. "It's a pleasure doin' business with ya." He held my hand after shaking it for a few seconds, twirling my ring around my finger gently and carefully. "I'll tie the knot for you and Sam anytime ya'll want. If ya wanna tomorrow, I'll try to find my certifications and stuff tonight. But only for someone as pretty as you." He kiss my hand.

_"Tomorrow?"_ I said, surprised. I never thought it would be as soon as tomorrow. My heart fluttered, skipping a beat. "That would be perfect, Clarence. Thank you."

"See you tomorrow, Miss and Randy waved as they started back down the road to their small home behind the landlord office.

"Well," Sam put his arm around my shoulders. "Tomorrow, then?"

I rested my cheek on his shoulder. "Tomorrow." I sighed dreamily as he swayed a little. "I never imagined myself married." It was the truth. Most peopled married in their twenties or late teens. I was thirty, and had never been interested in anyone before Sam.

"Me neither." He said quietly as we watched Clarence and Randy disappear down the road. The road that was now our road.

Our new bed was soft, but I slept restlessly, when I slept at all. I was awake most of the night, and from what I could tell, Sam was awake too. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly in the middle of the night.

I curled next to his arm. "Nervous."

"How come?"

"I've never been married before." I whispered in the dark. He laughed.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, neither have I."

"It does." I said into his arm.

"Good, now go to sleep." He patted my arm and turned over.

Morning seemed to come too soon. I could hear Sam in the other room singing some song about a squirrel and a chipmunk, so I slipped out of bed and pulled on my silk robe.

We didn't have a lot of food in the kitchen yet, but I found a carrot and padded outside. It was so warm today. Strangely warm. I opened the small gate to the paddock and small stable, where Louie was curled in a ball. He opened his big eyes and a deep sound was let out of his chest as he careened his neck when he saw me.

"My darling, baby Louie." I gently rubbed his head, feeding him the carrot. "Do you like your new home?"

He laid his head on my knee, twitching his ears that were too big for his head. I sat with him for about half an hour before I went to get ready.

I bathed and did my hair, trying to make it perfect. The curls bobbed in place, just as always, but I felt the need to keep fixing them. Finally, when I was mostly satisfied, I went to pick my clothes. My best were a white blouse and light blue skirt that I barely ever wore because they were the most expensive things I owned. I slipped my mother's old blue pins she'd given to me when I left home to make something of myself. It counted for something old, and something blue, and Sam's mother's ring was new to me.

"Sam," I grinned when I saw him. He had a suit jacket over his usual shirt and suspenders. "Don't you look dashing…"

"Hardly a competitor." He kissed my forehead and took my hand. The walk to town was silent between the two of us. Probably because we were nervous, or just anxious. But his hand in mine was comforting.

"Well, don't you two look fancy!" Clarence smiled. He was waiting at the door to the office, dressed in a suit, and that top hat I imagined him in yesterday, matching his cane. Randy was there as well, our witness, dressed in a suit about a size too big for him.

"Golly…" the young boy said, his ears that stuck out turning a bright shade of red.

"Thank you." I smiled, and Sam even did a polite bow and led me inside. Everything was tidy, and he had fresh papers typed up from the black type writer sitting on the counter.

"Ready Freddy?" Clarence smiled and opened his book. "Don't be nervous."

"No pressure." Randy smirked and rolled his eyes. Clarence laughed a little, smiling. Sam took both of my hands, and I realized they were shaking.

Clarence cleared his throat. "Well, we should start with the wedding vows." Sam rubbed my hand. Last night I'd been trying to get together what I was trying to say to him. "Ladies first, Katherine."

I took a deep breath. "Samuel Garter… I – commit to never leave you, to follow you. For where you go, I will go, where you remain, I will remain. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God," I smiled, still shaking. "Where you die, I shall die and be buried beside you." It was exactly everything I planned to say. Sam smiled.

"And Sam," Clarence nodded to him.

He smiled. "I give you my commitment to be faithful and loyal to you, in sickness and in health, good times or bad, in sadness and in joy. I do promise to love you unconditionally, to help you make your dreams come true and to respect and honor you. I cherish you, my dear Katherine for as long as we both shall live." He kissed my hand.

Clarence smiled again. "Sam, will you take Katherine Barlow to be your wife, love her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only her so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"And Katherine, will you take Samuel Garter to be your husband, love him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only unto him so long as you both shall live?"

"I do." I said.

"I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Garter. You may now kiss the bride."

I leaned up a little and he leaned down. Randy and Clarence clapped like gentlemen, and our kiss lasted for a few more moments.

I couldn't help feeling the adrenaline of my heart as Sam pulled me down to the bank of the tidal lake, tripping on the stones, and the last of the swaying, green thatchy grass that grew near it and swayed like Japanese fans in the warm breeze. I nearly stumbled with my shoes catching in the soft mud. The scenery was so exquisite that it left me breathless in the shimmering of the water. There was a small plank dock leading out to the water.

His lips reached my jaw, tracing the lines of my ear to collarbone. They were so warm against my skin, fairy floss. I couldn't stop my heart from pounding in my chest. My blood flowed rapidly to my cheeks, making me blush.

He began to pull his shirt over his head after throwing his hat like a discus into the hula grass.

"What on earth are you doing?" I giggled slightly as the sun shone down on my face, warming it. It was incredibly warm still, the third week of September. Often in Texas, the summer heat trailed into the autumn months. I put my hands on my hips.

"Come with me!" he smiled cockily, his lips pulling up at the edges into a grin. His shirt lay on the bank, along with his suspenders, his belt was tossed a few feet away from the two. His trousers left his body as well until he was just in his underpants, then those left too.

"What if someone sees us?"

"No one comes out here." he promised, smiling and doing a running leap into the water off the rickety dock. "I promise." He called as his head surfaced, bobbing in the slight tidal waves. Every part of my body urged to follow him into the water. I let out a deep measured sigh. Why was I so frightened? Not frightened, nervous. The bats in my stomach were back again. his muscular shoulders protruded from the water as he waited patiently.

I threw all caution to the wind and started to undo the belt around my waist, tossing it aside with an unknown satisfaction, slipping out of my skirt that slightly ruffled itself by the breeze, until I was down to my underclothes. I slipped out of them, over my head and down my legs, doing a hardly graceful splash into the water. It was so _warm_. _Like bathwater_, I thought. It had been years since I'd swam, but this water was so – nice. Then his hands found me. They wrapped around my torso, chilly and somehow warm at the same time in the water, snaking their way up my back and tangling into my wet blonde hair. I never wanted to kiss him so horribly, terribly bad in my life. So I did.

His lips were warm against my mouth, and surprisingly delicate and soft for a man's lips. I'd only been kissed once, when I was a teenager, and it wasn't even like this one bit. He had kissed me on the lips for a few seconds, and then let go. I never kissed him again, because he found interest in another girl. But now my only interest was him. Sam Garter. My husband.

"It's been a long time since I," I started to giggle uncontrollably, losing nearly all of my sealed composure. "have been swimming."

"I told you it was nice on a hot day." He reached forward has if he was going to tenderly stroke my wet cheek, but instead laughed and dunked me underwater by my shoulders. Surprised, but not horrified, I bobbed back up with a laugh and dined him straight back. I felt the tight muscles on his shoulders as I pushed him under.

"Sam?" I worried when he failed to come back up.

"Gotcha!" he grabbed my wrists and pulled me under again. We played this game a few more times before he leaned in and kissed me again. Frogs and cicadas chirped and hummed around us, the smell of the lake on Sam's skin. It was a deep, lingering kiss, and his fingers stroked down my spine. He gently kissed my top lip, and then my bottom lip, then both of them. His fingers went into my hair again, his arms around my back, and I wrapped myself around him. My skin against his skin. Pale… and very dark.

I loved him more than I had ever loved anything else. More than I ever loved anything. I loved him with something I couldn't put words to. A love more than love, definition unknown.

I found my hands doing nothing, so I ran them over his muscles, over his chest, and eventually to his waist. And we were kissing almost every second.

Sanctuary. That's where I was right now. Everything I needed. The water lapped around us in little wavelets, traveling around us like our bodies didn't occupy the space. But they were there.

He pressed his hands to the sides of my face as if to make sure I was there. My legs were wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck.

That day, our bodies found the water. That night, they found the bed.

**So? What did you think? Love, hate, please review and spread the word if you like this story!**


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